Taciturn Bonding
by Arya May
Summary: Though the two were as different as night and day, this strange bond would endure- even under the darkest of situations. Semi- AU, pre DMC3.


**_Taciturn Bonding_**

**Rating**: K+  
**Words**: 979  
**Characters**: Dante, Vergil  
**Pairings**: None unless you squint.  
**Setting**: The entire thing is semi- AU I guess, since the majority takes place pre- DMC3. Then it goes to post- DMC1 for a paragraph in a true AU-ish sense because Vergil's not exactly dead.  
**Notes: **Simply something I wrote after my French finals because I finished early. I have become something short of addicted to the Devil May Cry series, so I will certainly write more drabble-fics like this if time allows it.

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Despite the fact that the over clichéd story of twins being able to sense each other in some separate part of their minds ( the other's wellbeing, for an example- or maybe their location if they were in the vicinity of an area) due to some deeper bond was a myth, it did not stop the tale from enduring and living on. The basis of it all really laid with the predictability of the other whom one had spent their earliest unborn days together in the same womb and fluids- who was in all senses, their other half. There was no myth that existed really, but only an unspoken bond that between the two that they both shared which made the mindset possible to attain. And even if the two were as different as night and day, this strange bond would endure, even under the darkest of situations.

Vergil had always been there since the very beginning for Dante, to cover his back of the necessities he had never taken a second thought to, or maybe- a fear that both of them had. When they were little kids, it was Vergil who was the one that never cried, never raised a tantrum if he wasn't given what he demanded, and helped his little brother stack up his blocks up again when they had fallen over from carelessness in the process. Vergil was the one who cleaned their shared room when asked by Eva because it was already obvious by then that there was no word in the younger twin's mind called "cleaning", and Vergil was the one who gave him an army of bruises when he decided as a joke to ruin one of his brother's books with muddy fingers.

But when it was storming outside- real storms, of lightning and thunder that was as loud as a giant stomping in the open heavens- it was Dante's bed that Vergil found his way to from his own, and there they would fall asleep together as a defence against the imaginary monsters that their minds created. There would always be a faint trace of the shampoo that his brother used left on Dante's pillows when the next morning came and he had retreated back to his own side of the room showing no sign of what happened the previous night until the next turbulence came. In truth, Dante had been afraid of the monsters too, but he never did say it out loud. Why need to when his twin was there facing the danger with him? There was nothing that they could not do when they were together.

When they got older, this habit stopped- but even with Vergil growing distant as the years went, their bond never got disappeared. Schoolwork from teachers and tutors alike took the place of unlimited play, and sparring each other most of their free time- Rebellion and Yamato each becoming instruments of deadly beauty in their hands even as inexperienced in reality as they were. Vergil would always beat his younger brother when they dueled and exceeded all expectations in his studies (as he should have). It went something like this: Dante hated school but was liked by his peers like the social butterfly he was. Vergil soaked up new knowledge like a sponge with a tub of water, but he hated his classmates in his typical quiet fashion. He actually managed to scare most of them with his cold exterior, and along that most of his teachers also.

Yet, despite the absence of toy blocks and the reoccurring phobia of thunderstorms, the older twin would still wear his infamous half smirk on his face when he would watch his brother struggle to remember his times tables and scrape together his assignments at the last possible moments. Or maybe he would scoff as Yamato would slip through the opposing blade's defences, and Rebellion would be disarmed from Dante's hands while the blunt edge of the katana found itself hovering in front of his younger brother's throat.

And years later when Dante would come back to Devil May Cry after an exhausting day of demon hunting, he would find his brother standing near the window with a book in one hand, Yamato in another. He'd accuse his twin of actually caring about him before avoiding being impaled on the katana in a fit of his brother being his brother.

Dante and Vergil. Two halves of a whole, and perfect opposites in every respect except for perhaps, their blood. Fire and ice. Warmth and cold steel. But yet they fit each other perfectly- as if they were two interlocking pieces of an identical puzzle. Perhaps they were exactly that, each being everything the other wasn't. Taciturn bonds and taciturn appreciation of those bonds, a thing that they never voiced- because both knew that it was simply there and nothing would change it.

And that was something that they would never forget.

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**Please drop a review! It would be appreciated a lot, thanks.**


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